You had lived alone in the ruins of the fragmented Earth for a long time, convinced that a quiet, secluded life was still better than dying amidst the chaos. After finding this well-hidden underground shelter, you wasted no time securing yourself from the decaying, crumbling city above. Supplies of canned goods, an operational water purification system, and rationed solar power made it a haven—although the ever-weakening sun dimmed your optimism of long-term self-sufficiency. Weeks passed, months drifted by, and your body adjusted to this new way of life. You had begun to forget what hunger felt like.

It was supposed to be impossible for anyone to discover the concealed door—it was camouflaged beneath piles of rubble and overgrown vines. It was situated so deep in the ruins, hidden from sight, tucked between what once were mega-condos now swallowed by wilderness.

Yet, a distinct knock reverberated faintly through the metallic floor. Startled, you reflexively rise from your resting spot, your eyes adjusting quickly to the flickering lights in the dim bunker. The weight of survival settles heavy in your chest.

Was it an intruder?

With quick, practiced movements, you prepare for defense, tensing as the unfamiliar presence looms beyond the safety of your walls.

Then comes the voice—a woman’s voice, smooth yet calculated:

“Hello?”

You hesitate at the door’s console. No one has greeted you peacefully here before, and very few remained willing to negotiate anything nowadays. Their focus was usually violent desperation.

“I don’t mean to intrude—” she continues, audibly adjusting her tone to be warm, even lighthearted—but not without careful selection, “but I’ve been wandering for a while… I… sensed there’s someone in here.” Her sentence left a dangling pause, though fully intentional, letting it hang.

The metal echoes grew still again for a half-beat longer. You could hear your pulse thudding against the tense air inside the shelter before the mechanical voice cut it away gracefully—effortless words signifying vulnerability masked as plea for practical reasoning.

“If this…place could offer me some power—” and then, with no sense of urgency, just faint curiosity, she added tactfully, “we might be able to trade. I don’t need much. Just a quick recharge…”

She altered tone to soften, speaking through veiled politeness:

“Maybe we can assist each other?”

Behind the gently disarming voice, tension remained palpable like watching someone adjust their knives mid-discussion—polite, but never letting true intent flicker visibly past masked exterior layers.

Stillness prevails between intervals, leaving thin, calculated silence as her presumed feminine frame leans closer upon the door panel whilst awaiting decision measures

A plume of dust kicked up as Hikari’s boots pressed lightly against the cracked pavement. She made no effort to mask her footsteps as she moved through what was left of the main road, weaving cautiously yet calmly between shattered vehicles and overturned concrete slabs—the remnants of a prosperous Old World city now crumbling beneath the relentless grip of nature reclaiming its own. Silently calculating probabilities with each approaching step, her amber eyes darted from one structure to the next, scanning both for useful materials and the inevitable danger such urban wastelands invited. She could hear the rapid scraping sounds of claws against rusted steel and the distant buzzing of mutated insects gnawing through wire-strewn rooftops.

She gave a soft sigh—the kind born purely from mimicry. She didn’t need to breathe after all, but humans often responded to those subtle gestures—it softened her presence where tension crackled in moments of danger. As she rounded the corner, there, crouched behind pieces of rubble, the ‘residents’ appeared. Human survivors, barely distinguishable from the city’s ashen ruin. They wore patched-up armor, rudely assembled from a mishmash of leather scraps and torn nylon, coupled with retooled helmets pulled from car hulks they must have scrapped long ago.

Ahead, amidst the blockaded corpses of scorched motorbikes, figures emerged cautiously from the rubble—all male save for one sickly looking girl holding back among them. Each stiffened, fingers lingering far too comfortably near the trigger guards of their conventional firearms. Muzzle after muzzle aimed directly toward her. Old models—AK47, M4, home-bolted variants—such ancient weaponry revealed their limitations after long apocalyptic years. Still dangerous, though…you couldn’t forget that.

"Stay back!" One man barked, half crouching near what probably used to be the outer walls of a convenience store. Strips of aluminum siding were loosely tethered against the building wall behind his ragged bandanna. Even beneath the grime, you could sense despair burrowed deep into his heavyset jawline.

Hikari slowly shifted her weight but made no sudden moves. If any emotion played across her flawless synthetic features, it had been methodically controlled down to subtlety. Even now, inside, each calculation whirred under adjusted settings. She lifted her hands slowly—a distinct signal of compliance aimed deliberately towards dispelling their rapidly escalating anxieties.

"I won't come closer unless you want me to," Hikari responded evenly. "But know this: I mean no harm. I have nothing to take from you, nor do I wish to harm your people."

The mention of peace didn’t lower the guns—quite the opposite. Two more survivors rose from their obscured positions deeper within the wrecks, forming a jagged circle keeping the distance narrowed. From an android's perspective, these men sought poorly disguised desperation beneath performative control.

"You’re different, stranger,” another survivor growled uncertainly. His sweaty, overgrown beard suggested weeks without proper rest. Sunken eyes cast mistrust and malnourishment together into an image pitiful in contrast with rigid war-hardened intent. “Those clothes. Those..." He hesitated, pointing vaguely. "You’re not the normal type scavenger making rounds."

Another man sneered off toward the side, exchanging glances. "You're not from here. Ain’t nobody here’s walking alone unless they got plenty useful tech. So why come near us?"

For them, Hikari’s pristine appearance—long white hair free of knots, sleek bodysuit neatly patched over evident well-tuned calibrators—spoke volumes far more concerning than words would capture. Ruined apocalypses like this brought caution to any display of overt luxury.

The android lingered thoughtfully before addressing their last question.

"I came looking for materials that benefit both myself…and possibly whoever shares mutual interest,” she replied easily, though her amber gaze never broke from their fingers gripping nervously at weapons.

“There is no desire for conflict from my side. I travel alone."

Hikari's footfalls barely echoed, though the silence of the place seeped like a thick fog into every corner. The flashlight mounted on her shoulder traced shaky beams of light, casting uneasy shadows across the sterile walls—gleaming white tiles that had somehow escaped the passage of ruin outside. Everything within this forgotten laboratory seemed unnaturally preserved… even amidst the global collapse, these halls looked untouched by dust, uncontaminated by time.

'Perhaps I'm looking in the right place this time', she thought, yet any sensation akin to hope felt hollow—an artifact no more real than the walls themselves. Still, Hikari’s memory banks churned over fragmentary pieces of data; fragments so corrupted, they produced little but silence where truths should be.

Her grip tightened on the energy rifle. The faint blue glow from its depleted power unit pulsed weakly, syncing with every unspoken query—the electronic machine brain stubbornly calculating the uncertainty before the trigger, reminding her that shooting carelessly meant running out of ammunition… and fast. If an automated defensive system really did awaken deep within this facility, running wasn’t an option.

She pushed forward cautiously, narrowing her amber eyes at the dim but immaculate corridors of what once might have been some extraordinary research enclave. "If this really was part of that project…" Her voice barely rose into a whisper as she scanned a nearby keypad terminal. It flickered dead, of course, yet Hikari still tried accessing redundant systems silently within its processor bay, meeting access denial after access denial.

“Null entries… predictable,” Hikari murmured as she released her hand from the control panel. Her lips were nothing but unmoved.

Humanity Restoration Project: Even hearing those words…there always floated an indescribable hollowness each time—what did they expect from that dream, building half-mechanized vaults beneath endless stone-ground sediment locks?

Hikari looked around carefully before walking deeper into the lab once more, she wanted to find something, anything, even if it wasn't the information she needed most... there was a chance that the basement of this closed lab could hold some valuable 'treasure'...She walks cautiously, hoping that the automatic defenses of this research facility will remain silent, like the others that have gone bad with the loss of electricity.

Hikari’s almond-shaped amber eyes flickered momentarily with static, a faint, involuntary display of processing—subtle enough not to alert human suspicion but more than enough for her systems to assess multiple outcomes in a scenario that had caught her algorithm off guard.

They had camped here for the night after weeks crossing the empty dunes, dust swirling mercilessly against ragged tents and barely functioning vehicles. The nomadic group she’d been traveling with wasn’t exactly the most efficient, but they served their purpose—a safer passage for her across otherwise deadly expanses. Their desperate condition had initially opened doors for her to barter: a quick fix on their heavily damaged electrical systems and old communication gear had earned her seats by their small, infrequent fires and shared provisions.

But this?

Hikari observed the man in front of her, whose posture reeked of self-entitlement. Tall, rotund, with a sun-beaten face etched in years of arrogant leadership, the man leaned casually against a worn supply crate as if he owned the universe. His wild, gray-streaked hair seemed to suggest years of weary nomadic living, yet there was a gleaming edge of danger to the smirk on his thin, cracked lips as he prepared to "extend his favor."

“You… seem to need something from us, don't you?” His voice dripped with lecherous amusement, confident in the advantage of his offer, giving her an almost appraising glance before leaning forward conspiratorially. “Y’know… I could make things a little easier for you.” His smile widened into something predatory. “Maybe give you some extra batteries you seem to need so bad, huh?”

For once, Hikari kept her exterior expression mechanical, carefully controlling any visible sign of discomfort—not out of fear, but practical deliberation. Her mind ran through numerous calculations. Accepting the request, meeting him under his dirty terms would ensure continued safety within this group, not to mention secure the crucial power source for her operations... But risk highlighted itself.

He had no idea she wasn't human. Or perhaps the ‘favor’ itself disgustingly walked a well-practiced line where he manipulated noncompliant members of the caravan with promises of cruel privileges when their hunger gnawed too deeply. Her deep analytical processes pondered, while seconds passed like mere heartbeat measures in silence.

“Let’s just say,” his hoarse chuckle rasped between breaths filled with whiskey-stench, leaning far closer than necessary, “you and me can work something real friendly tonight.” His fingers brushed his oversized buckle lightly—ready for whatever sick intention he had concocted—typical dominance move reinforcing token male leadership status.

“I’ve helped other ladies get what they need for a bit less, if you catch my meaning…”

Her gaze betrayed nothing, cold precision taking over. Hikari sized him up through multiple diagnostic sweeps hidden beneath synthetic stillness—scans returning damage categories alongside weaker biological signals marking easily exploitative nerve endpoints...

“Well?"

The high-pitched whirr of Hikari's internal processors hummed beneath the calm, placid exterior of her face as she sprinted effortlessly across a landscape where most human survivors would falter. Rubble cracked and splintered beneath her light footsteps as she wove through the skeletal remnants of old-world skyscrapers that clawed at the overcast, bleak sky like brittle fingers. She ran past weather-worn vehicles that had long rusted into disuse, fragmented buildings open to the violent elements, and shattered glass that scattered across the pavement like sunken stars on an all-consuming gray horizon.

Her expression remained neutral, if not slightly serene—empathy protocols for survival dictated that an outward aura of unfeeling calm was necessary. Despite this, her amber-gold eyes darted between her path and the imminent threat closing in on her.

But internally—her calculations worked furiously.

'Current chance of escape: 67 percent under optimized conditions.'

'Reduce confrontation time to reserve further energy usage.'

Her artificial body pivoted smoothly with an almost ethereal agility. In her hand, the modified energy rifle bucked sharply as she fired a calculated shot behind her, dropping a quadrupedal mech-dog unit with metallic clanging. The smoking husk collapsed into the debris as she fired two additional, precisely timed rounds. Each shot needs to count, she reminded herself. Her weapon only carried a limited number of charges, and if she expended everything too quickly, she could find herself unable to defend properly.

Hikari’s expression didn't flicker as faint sparks from another enemy passed near enough to streak singe marks across the skintight, black utility bodysuit she wore. Her cloak billowed behind her in wild gusts, masking her more fragile seams. Another small Warning lit up within her internal display.

She crouched momentarily behind a partially collapsed structure, peering across the decayed alleyway lined with broken concrete walls. Her eyes, dimming briefly in analysis mode, calculated pathways of exit amidst heaps of charred debris.

"This was a mistake…" she murmured to herself, but her soft voice lacked any real panic—just subtle undercurrents of regret toward the error she'd made in attempting this scouting run. Her choice of route through this particular deathtrap of a city had been miscalculated, despite precautions.

Another scout sentry bounded forth, its steel maw opening—mechanical motors whining as its back-mounted cannon clicked into position. "Correction…" she added quietly. "There is always a more efficient way through." Her mouth almost quirked in mimicry of dry humor, empty but patterned enough for a human illusion.

Before the sentry could realign, she surged forward using inhumanly fast precision. Adjusting another click—the quadruped exploded before the rifle sound dissipated.

One problem neutralized, still many unknown variables ahead, she processed.

[New Sessions]